


Monochromatic

by MagnetoTheMagnificent



Series: Flufftober 2020 [9]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Late Night Conversations, Marriage Proposal, Other, South Downs Cottage (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:48:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26911666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagnetoTheMagnificent/pseuds/MagnetoTheMagnificent
Summary: Five years after the averted Apocalypse, Aziraphale asks Crowley an important question.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Flufftober 2020 [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952344
Comments: 4
Kudos: 43





	Monochromatic

"Darling?" Aziraphale said one night as they sat in front of the fire.

"Mm?" 

"Are you aware of the impression we give off to humans?" he asked. 

Crowley nuzzled sleepily against him. 

"What impression?" 

"Of our relationship. They think we're, how do you say, an item." 

Crowley looked up at him, and stared. 

"Angel?"

Aziraphale swallowed. 

"What are your thoughts on the matter, dear?" 

"I- ngh- well-" 

Words momentarily failed, and all he could muster were unintelligible squeaks. 

Aziraphale smiled fondly. 

"Would you say we're an item?" he asked softly. 

"Because I daresay in human terms we've been such for at least two hundred years." 

"The Arrangement," Crowley whispered. 

"We have no need for the Arrangement anymore, dear boy," Aziraphale chuckled. 

"We haven't needed it in the past five years." 

"We don't need an excuse for our relationship, anymore," he said softly.

"What are you saying?" Crowley croaked. 

"I'm saying we might want to consider putting a new name on what we are," Aziraphale replied. 

"We do want to come up with an answer for when humans inevitably ask." 

Crowley nodded slowly.

"Yeah. For the humans." 

Aziraphale chuckled lightly. 

"And for ourselves, my dear. I find I rather like the idea of calling ourselves, as the humans do, partners." 

"Partners?" 

"Partners, spouses, lovers, husbands. All in the same general field of expression," he explained. 

Crowley's scales became brighter and more pronounced. 

"Angel, are you-" 

"Am I what, darling?" Aziraphale asked, flashing that bastard smile of his. 

He wanted Crowley to say it himself. 

"Ngk. Aziraphale, are you- you suggesting we get married?" 

The angel grinned widely, blushing. 

"It is what the humans do, after all, and I find it's such a lovely practice," he said demurely. 

"Weddings. M-my lot, you know," Crowley remarked. 

"They most certainly are not!" Aziraphale retorted indignantly. 

"Weddings are an expression of _love,_ my dear boy. I hardly think Hell would be responsible for that. No, they most certainly are my lot. Or at least my former lot. Heaven, you see," he sniffed. 

"Nope. Weddings are an expression of _moula_. And greed. And jealousy. And all seven sins in succession. Definitely Hell. Have you seen how humans get before their wedding? Absolute madness. And then of course you have the hen-do and the stag party. And you know what the humans get up to there. 'Specially in America." 

He smirked triumphantly at Aziraphale. 

"Well, regardless of whose lot it is, wouldn't you like the idea?"

Crowley bit his lower lip. 

"I mean, n'yeah, maybe, definitely, but you know it wouldn't work, 'least not now," he stammered. 

"Why not?" 

"Well, for one, we're both men. Gen'rlly men, that is," he explained. 

Aziraphale grimaced. 

" _Ah_. Yes," he agreed. 

"And for second, angel, I know you're going to want a tartan theme, and I absolutely will not have that."

"Tartan is stylish!" Aziraphale insisted. 

"Sure, on a tie or a kilt or something, but for a wedding? Just about appropriate as a monochromatic colour scheme."

"Oh, but the humans do love a good white wedding," Aziraphale added. 

"Yeah, but with a pop of colour, at least. Can you imagine a wedding hall that is completely white?" 

"Quite blinding, I imagine."

"My point exactly."

They both laughed. 

Aziraphale took Crowley's hand, turning serious.

"Would you want to do it, though, my dear?" 

"Marry you?" 

The angel nodded, and Crowley shifted uncomfortably. 

"Of course I do," he answered softly. 

Aziraphale beamed, and squeezed his hand fondly. 

"I suppose all that's left is for the humans to get their act together and allow such a marriage," he commented. 

"Oh, it'll be slow-going. But I'm sure they'll get there. Someday," Crowley responded. 

They both looked somber. 

"What do you want me to call you, now, then?" 

Crowley looked up. 

"I- err- haven't given it much thought," he admitted. 

"How about 'partner'?" 

"Howdy, pardner," Crowley quipped instinctively under his breath.

"Do you not like the term?"

"No!" Crowley answered quickly. 

"It's just a- nevermind, angel. I like it. Partners, yeah. 'S what are, innit?" 

"Partners," Aziraphale nodded, pulling Crowley close.

Crowley yawned. 

"I'm gonna turn in. You gonna join me, _partner_?" he asked with a twinkle in his yellow eyes.

"Of course, _partner_."


End file.
